Thursday, September 27, 2012

Dear Rachel

September 27, 2012

Dear Rachel,

Fifty
years ago to this very day—September 27, 1962—your world-changing book Silent Spring was first published.
Though you did not live to see the full revolution that ensued, rest assured
that the book’s impact has been immense: the environmental movement,
Environmental Protection Agency, banning of various pesticides, Earth Day, . . . on and on.

It’s not
surprising, then, that for most people, the name Rachel Carson still brings to
mind an ardent activist bravely confronting chemical companies in defense of
human and environmental health.

Yet others,
including me, think of you differently: poet, beach walker, scientist, lover of
nature (sea creatures in particular), and someone with a deep passion for
connecting children with the natural world. Oh how I wish you had been given
the time to write your “wonder book,” as you affectionately called it. Instead,
I must delve time and again into your essay, “Help Your Child to Wonder,” reading
about that stormy night when you ventured down to the seashore with your baby
nephew Roger to witness the booming surf. I am still struck by the clarity and
verity of your vision; give children abundant outdoor experience in wild places
together with at least one adult mentor to share the journey.

I was a
year old when Silent Spring came out, and only three when breast cancer
prematurely ended your life. One decade later in 1974, my father was taken,
also by cancer while in his mid-50’s. It is a terrible irony that those
chemical pollutants you documented so carefully, wrote about so eloquently, and
rallied against so fiercely may have been responsible for cutting short your
time with us. On this auspicious day, we celebrate your life and mourn your departure.

Rachel,
though I am far removed from your esteemed standing, I think it fair to say
that we have some things in common. I too am a biologist and a science
communicator. I too possess a lifelong passion for nature, and oceans in
particular, having spent most of my five decades in close proximity to one
coast or another. And I too am passionate about connecting children with
nature. Indeed nature connection has become the focus of my professional life
and, thanks to my daughter Jade, a wonderful part of my personal life as well.

But I have
a confession. I’ve felt haunted by your spirit.

The
decades since your death have witnessed an utter transformation in childhood—in
the wrong direction. Here in the early 21st Century, North American children
are lucky to spend a few scant minutes outside each day, on the order of 90%
less than their parents did. Indoors, reality has been replaced by virtual
substitutes, with youngsters succumbing en masse to the siren call of glowing screens
housed in powerful, often hand-held gadgets. Together with rampant rates of obesity, attention deficit disorder, and
depression, this indoor migration has left us with a gaping chasm between
children and nature, critically endangering the health of both.

Sometimes
as I’ve paused to gaze out the window, or walked to the kitchen for another cup
of tea, I have felt your melancholy presence, saddened over the state of the
world and our failures in nurturing the children-nature bond. Lacking substantial
signs of progress, I’ve been unable to face you directly.

To be
fair, there have been a number of bright spots along the way. Brightest of them
all, perhaps, is another book, Last Child
in the Woods, a 2006 bestseller penned by journalist Richard Louv. In this
well-researched volume, Louv spotlighted the dangers of our current alienation
from nature—what he termed “nature deficit disorder”—as well as the many health
benefits of nature connection. Perhaps for the first time since Silent Spring, a book became the vital
seed for a new environmental movement, this one focused on children.

Under the
care and attention of grassroots supporters led by the non-profit Children and Nature Network, this seed has taken root and sent shoots skyward. Nevertheless,
until recently it seemed that the tender seedling could succumb at any moment, overheated
by the warming air or simply crushed by the technology gargantuan.

Then, in
2012, by coincidence a half-century after Silent Spring’s debut, the “new
nature movement,” as it has been dubbed, suddenly matured into a robust,
thriving sapling. This unexpected growth, speeded by nutrients from many
quarters, has emboldened me to fill you in on recent events.

In 2011
and 2012 alone, the new nature movement has witnessed the following:

The Children and Nature Network documents
more than 100 regional campaigns and 130 family nature clubs in over 80 regions
around North America, reaching over 3 million children per year.

Several research compendiums of
peer-reviewed studies are released, including the “Children and Nature Worldwide Summary of Research,” documenting a global spike in nature deficit disorder, as
well as critical reasons to connect children with nature.

The Walt Disney Company, through
their Disney Worldwide Conservation Fund, honors five organizations for their
work in connecting children with nature, giving each a grant of $100,000.

President Barack Obama (an African
American President!) launches the America’s Great Outdoors initiative, with the
vision of connecting all Americans to the natural heritage of this country.

The federal America’s Great
Outdoors and Forest Service initiatives are backed by various state level
programs—including the Rocky Mountain Greenway project in Colorado and Twin
Cities Parks project in Minnesota—aimed at connecting urban populations to
local nature.

The International Union for the
Conservation of Nature (IUCN) adopts a resolution stating that every child has “the inherent right to
connect with nature in a meaningful way, as a substantial part of his or her
everyday life and healthy development, and to enjoy, maintain, and strengthen
this connection through the direct and ongoing experience of nature.”

Conservation leaders from around
the world at the 2012 IUCN meeting sign the “Jeju Declaration,” resolving to work
collectively through a new global campaign aimed at connecting people with
nature through national parks and protected areas.

As if all
this weren’t enough, in August I attended the 2012 Children and Nature
Grassroots Gathering, which took place at the verdant National Conservation
Training Center in Shepherdstown, West Virginia. While staying several nights
in a lodge named in your honor, I listened to over 100 committed people from the
US, Canada, and Australia speak about their efforts to connect children with
nature. David Room told us of his “Pacha’s Pajamas” project, which combines
music, media, and celebrities to create a “cool” fictional story aimed at
inspiring kids to get outdoors. Betsy Townsend spoke of her remarkable
Cincinnati-based efforts to coordinate organizations and demonstrate the
essential human health benefits of nature. Rue Mapp, Brother Yusuf Burgess, and
Juan Martinez all spoke eloquently about connecting at-risk urban youth with
nature. Martinez, born and raised in south central LA, did not even experience
nature until his teen years; today he is a spokesperson for the Sierra Club and
an outdoor company called North Face; he’s also a National Geographic Explorer
and directs the Natural Leaders program of the Children and Nature Network.
Together, all of these individuals convinced me that the new nature movement is
ready to transcend its largely white, affluent base to become a truly diverse, global
revolution.

Finally,
I know you’ll appreciate hearing that your message of awe and wonder is finally
beginning to sink in. More and more, people are realizing that the standard
gloom and doom approach (focused on warming climates, disappearing habitats,
and vanishing species) does not engage kids or adults. Instead there is growing
awareness that a sustainable path into the future demands that we talk about
love, about nurturing the emotional bond between kids and nature so that it
becomes an invincible force capable of upending cultural norms. Why will people
care for the places they live? Not because they have to, but because they want
to. As the new IUCN campaign aptly states, “It’s about love. Not loss.” As you
have long reminded us, our job is not so much to inform, but to inspire a love
affair between people and nature. Now there’s a joyous task!

Rachel,
I’m happy to say that, for the first time, I no longer sense the haunting of
your spirit. These days, despite a host of frightening indicators, I find
myself truly hopeful. A burgeoning passion for connecting people with nature
seems to be “in the air.” Much remains to be done, of course, and we still need
to discover ways to rapidly scale current efforts. Yet, by following the
pathway of awe and wonder, I see a real possibility that the new nature
movement will mature from its current sapling into a stout arbor, with shade
aplenty for a harried species.

Yesterday morning, as I walked along the beach, tasting the salty morning air and
inhaling the surf’s ebb and flow, I felt you walking by my side, an encouraging
smile upon your face, cheering me on.

Thank you
so much for all you’ve done, and all that your legacy continues to do. We will
continue to work to live up to it.

Welcome to The Whirlpool of Life!

The Whirlpool of Life is a blog about nature. It’s about how the living world works and how we perceive it. It is also much concerned with deep time and our relationships with the 99% of “earthlings” that are now extinct. Posts will encompass a wide range of topics, spanning paleontology, evolution, ecology, education, sustainability, philosophy, and psychology. In most cases, the thread that I will use to weave these topics together is the transformation of worldviews, particularly through connecting children with nature. A foundational essay for this blog can be found by clicking here.

Profile

I am a dinosaur paleontologist, science communicator, and educator. I serve as Vice President of Research & Collections and Chief Curator at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. Alongside my dinosaur research, I now spend the bulk of my time working to bridge the human-nature disconnect. I am currently working on a general audience book for Houghton Mifflin Press about how to connect children with nature.